The Push by Ashley Audrain

I picked up The Push by Ashley Audrain for one very scientific reason: a bunch of strangers on Reddit said they couldn’t put it down.

As someone whose reading list is increasingly being dictated by internet recommendations and library availability, that was apparently all the convincing I needed. I went into this one completely blind. I knew nothing about the author, almost nothing about the plot, and hadn’t even read many reviews beforehand.

Sometimes that strategy backfires.

This was not one of those times.

The Push follows a mother who never feels entirely comfortable in the role of motherhood. Layered throughout the story are themes of grief, family trauma, loss, and the complicated relationships that shape who we become. Before going any further, I should mention that the death of a child is a major part of the story, so if that’s a topic you’re particularly sensitive to, this may not be the right book for you.

On paper, some of the choices these characters make should have frustrated me. In many cases, they are messy, flawed, and occasionally self-destructive. Yet I found myself understanding them even when I didn’t agree with them.

Ashley Audrain does an excellent job of showing how people arrive at decisions rather than simply presenting the decisions themselves. There were several moments where I found myself thinking, “That’s a terrible idea,” while simultaneously understanding exactly why a character felt compelled to do it. Those are often the most interesting characters to read about because they feel human rather than fictional.

The book also does something I always appreciate in psychological fiction: it leaves room for uncertainty.

Throughout much of the story, I found myself questioning what was really happening, whose perspective I could trust, and whether certain fears were justified or imagined. It creates a tension that isn’t driven by action scenes or dramatic twists but by the uncomfortable feeling that something is off and you can’t quite figure out what.

The result is a book that feels incredibly difficult to put down.

I kept telling myself I would read one more chapter before bed, which is the lie readers have been telling themselves since the invention of chapters. Before I knew it, I was far deeper into the story than I intended to be.

Even though I haven’t personally experienced many of the situations explored in the novel, the emotions felt authentic. The grief felt authentic. The resentment felt authentic. The longing for connection and understanding felt authentic. Even when the characters were spiraling, there was enough emotional grounding that I could follow them there.

This is not what I would call a fun read. It’s not a light summer romance. It’s not the kind of book you’re likely to toss into your beach bag alongside sunscreen and a fruity drink.

Then again, if psychological family drama is your beach read of choice, who am I to stop you?

While it didn’t quite reach five-star territory for me, it landed comfortably at four stars. It was compelling, emotionally complex, and far more engrossing than I expected when I randomly checked it out from the library.

If you’re looking for a book that explores motherhood, grief, perception, and the ways people cope with impossible situations, The Push is well worth picking up. Just don’t be surprised if you sit down to read a chapter and suddenly realize you’ve spent the entire evening turning pages.